


Sigh Not So

by amani101



Series: A Tale of Two Princes [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!LOki, Alpha!Thor, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, M/M, Omega!Steve, Steve-centric, omega!Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7509415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amani101/pseuds/amani101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's world once again turns topsy-turvy when he receives an invite to Tony Stark's off-world wedding.</p><p> </p><p>(A companion fanfic to "Sigh No More".)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Thing Constant

[Four days prior, 4:59 AM EST]

Steve was up before the alarm sounded and promptly hits the switch before it unwinds. If Tony was here, he would have teased him about his antique purchase.

* * *

[6:00 AM EST]

After completing his morning ablutions and eating a light breakfast of a dozen scrambled eggs, a loaf of bread, half a pound of bacon, and a pound of potato hash, Steve grabs two gallon jugs of water and goes to put on his sneakers. They were a pair of flashy red, white and blue ASICS gel running shoes. He’d worn out four pairs so far of the baker’s dozen he received for Christmas last year. They weren’t his favorite to look at, but he can’t complain how comfortable they are. Before he leaves, he tells the ceiling— he meant JARVIS, to lock up. Even after two years, Steve still finds it strange when the A.I. bids him a ‘good day, sir’ just like the real Edwin Jarvis. And then he would wonder why anyone would say Tony Stark doesn’t have a heart.

* * *

[7:05 AM EST]

Natasha picks him up at the curb for an extraction mission briefing. Earlier Steve had just met a Beta soldier he ran passed several times during his morning jog in Central Park. The man was visiting his father before he deploys for his first tour. It was comforting to know that despite how different wars are fought these days, the nerves and jitters they related were the same. Maybe he will take the guy up on the offer to visit the local V.A. center and help out. Tony did always say he needed to go out and mingle. Tony would’ve like Sam Wilson.

* * *

[Three days prior, 16:36 MSK]

Steve never did like waiting in the wings. He very much prefer to take such risky missions head on than to send a lone woman into hostile territory by herself. Not that he’s questioning her skills nor her first or second gender. Peggy Carter had convinced him long ago to never underestimate a person’s resourcefulness and determination. But Clint was right, they would both stick out like a sore thumb in Iran. Although, how a fiery red head would fare any better, Steve would like to know.

Natasha’s twenty-four minutes out from their rendezvous point in Odessa, Ukraine. She should be coming down the mountains right about now.

Something didn’t feel right. Although its peace time between Russia and the U.S., there’s a certain tension in the air that was all too familiar. Then he saw it. There, up by the cliffside, a van swerves off the cliff.

Steve didn’t stand by to see what happens next. He runs at top speed through the warehouse and up the stairs to the roof. The Quinjet was already powered up before he even hop into the co-pilot seat.

“Up by the cliff—”

“I’m on it. Saw the whole thing go down,” Clint speaks through the coms as he pulls the jet up and guns for it. He squints far into the distance then curses abruptly, “Shit! A lone gunman coming in hot at ten o’clock sharp! We won’t make it in time.”

As good as his eyesight was, nothing compared to Clint’s hawk-eye vision. By the time the super soldier was able to witness the scene in detail, Clint was firing at a ghost while Natasha lay bleeding over a dead nuclear engineer. Tony would have called the mission a bust. Steve hates it when the brat’s right.

* * *

[Two days prior, 9:12 PM EST]

It takes Natasha over twenty-four hours to wake up from surgery and give her oral report. Steve wanted to put it off, but Fury’s been breathing fire down their backs as Tony would call it since the clean up. There was nothing tactful about the Alpha’s approach and Steve would have some choice words of his own with the Director later. Right now, his pack mates need him.

“Take your time, don’t rush it,” he assures her as Clint sits by her and holds her hand for moral support.

Feeling helpless standing by the window, Steve offers again, “Can I get you anything?”

Even when her complexion is as white as the sheets she slept in, Natasha manage her signature wry smirk. Her husky voice was raspier than normal when she finally speaks, “I’m good. There’s not much to tell. Somebody shot at my tires. We lost control, went straight over the cliff. I pulled us out, but the sniper was there. I was covering the engineer, so he shot him straight through me.”

She then turns her head to look at Clint and says, “A Soviet slag, no rifling. Bye-bye bikinis.”

Clint mock pouts then rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I’ll bet you look terrible in them from now on.”

Steve saw a hint of smile from her and felt some relief despite how ridiculous their exchange was at a time like this.

“Back during the war, the Howling Commandoes and I ran into a sniper near Odessa once. Her name was Pavlychenko with 187 confirmed kills at the time. She was a force to be reckoned with. Did you manage to catch a glimpse of this ghost Clint grazed?”

Seeing the peeved face Clint was making, Natasha looks at Steve to answer her unasked question.

“Clint swears that he shot the guy on the arm but there was no trace of blood anywhere.”

That sparks the usual defense from the sharpshooter immediately, “I got him! I know I did!”

“Clint—” admonish Steve and Natasha said about the same time, “I doubt it.”

“Not you too!” decried Clint.

“Hush you. I’d meant. I have no doubt that your aim was true, what I do doubt is whether you hurt him since the guy was heavily armored and has a metal arm to boot.”

This information left both Steve and Clint stunned for a moment.

“So you met this sniper before? Who is he?”

Natasha tries to shrug only to grimace in pain, “Can’t say I have until now. Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe the Alpha exists, the ones who do call him the Winter Soldier. He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years.”

Clint gives an I’m-impressed-whistle whereas Steve looks skeptical, “So he’s a ghost story after all.”

He needn’t even say anything before she commented in all seriousness, “Going after him is a dead end.”

Steve was equally as serious when he replies, “Well, let's find out where’s this ghost been haunting anyways.”

Then right on cue, Phil Coulson walks in without even bother knocking and brings all their speculation to a halt.

“Your ghost hunt will have to be delayed, Captain. Tony has accepted Prince Thor’s official proposal and you’re expected to attend with a plus two.”


	2. The Wrong Foot, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN edit 11/29/2016: My apologies, but after a bit of research I am correcting a blaring mistake by demoting Rhodes from a colonel to a second lieutenant since his age would factor in on his ranking even if he took ROTC in college.

[One day prior, 7:40 AM EST]  
“Avengers assemble! And um, Miss Potts, you’re more than welcome to join us too. Location: Stark Mansion, conference room. Time: tomorrow, eight o’clock sharp. Rogers, out.”

Steve left that message on the Avengers’ emergency channel that is monitored by JARVIS late last night when he arrived back at the Stark mansion. It was a bit last minute and hopefully everyone can make it. The choice of who goes to Tony’s off-world wedding is going to be made by the pack regardless of what was said last night. Even thinking about it now cause Steve to punch the reinforced sandbag harder than normal and sends it flying off the rack, hitting against the back wall before landing with a thump. The bag splits open upon impact and the contents disperses on the gym floor. A moment later, he hears DUM-E motoring in to vacuum it up beeping nonsensical noises. He murmurs an apology to the bot and goes to help clean up the mess all the while lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

_After leaving Clint with Natasha, he’d follow Phil to one of the secured briefing rooms on the administrative floor of the helicarrier. On their way, they passed by a few femme cadets who began twittering excitedly as soon as they were out of sight. Steve didn’t need super hearing to know what they would be saying. Most likely by morning, the rumor mills would have reignited the old flame he supposedly had with the Alpha. Their clandestine rendezvous exposed via grainy security footage. Despite how many things had change, the topic of Captain America’s love life never ceased to be gossip fodder. He couldn’t understand the public’s fascination with his and for that matter Tony’s mating status at all. And where did they get the notion to paint Howard’s son to be a tramp just like his old man? It is all so strange to him still, this constant stream of media attention focusing on baseless rumors. Watch and be watched, making the twenty first century populace seem to consist of nothing but voyeurs when kept idle._

_Steve supposed it doesn’t help that they both were constants to the public’s eye one way or other. Tony with his charities and expos and his own volunteer work in addition to their occasional dealings with run of the mill villains terrorizing citizens of Earth. It’s hard to stay below radar with Iron Man’s flare for the dramatics, Hulk’s destructive powers, and his own iconic shield. It also didn’t help that there seem to be an overabundance of folks following them around with their hand held recording devices and end up being in the way most times. He felt like that dancing monkey going on tour again except he’s being scrutinized relentlessly._

_“If you don’t mind a slight detour, Captain. It’ll just take a minute. There’s a file in my office I would like to grab en route.”_

_Pulled from his own musing Steve makes no objection and follows Phil through a series of two left turns and a right. After scanning his badge, the door slid open and Phil signals Steve to come inside with him. Considering how small the office was, Steve was on alert when the door slid closed. Phil eyes him purposely before pretending to search for the file._

_“In a few minutes, there will be some folks joining us in the briefing. Director Fury will not be one of them. However, he would like to—and I quote— ‘send his regards to Mr. Stark and tell the brat to keep his insightful travel commentary out of the collective report’—end quote. Plan a little weekend trip myself. The forecast looks pretty good tomorrow, nothing but sunshine and rainbows if you wake up earlier enough.”_

_Steve had kept his stance relaxed and his face neutral throughout only to grin briefly at Fury’s dig on Tony._

_“Ah, found it,” announces Phil in his usual deadpan before grabbing the file then reach pass the Captain to activate the door. With a slight of hand, Steve receives the thumb drive and pockets it within a scan proof section of his jacket as he follows the Alpha out._

_He takes a page from Tony’s playbook and hams up the fond expression on his face for surveillance, even going so far as flashing a smile at Phil while they traverse the short distance, bypassing the briefing room area altogether and reached the main conference room. As the door slid open, the initial draft that escaped indicated three Alpha males totaled to his senses._

_Alert and ready, he defaults to stand at ease after a few steps in. Straightaway, Steve recognized one of them from a photo in Nick Fury’s office. Former Secretary of Defense Alexander Pierce, currently a councilman in the World Security Council after Gideon Malick left to become an advisor to President Ellis. The other two, he’s never met although their military training is clear from how they carried themselves in spite of their civilian clothes. The door closed with a decisive swoosh with Phil standing left of his peripheral._

_“Ah, Captain. I’m Alexander Pierce.”_

_Steve nods in deference but kept his stance deliberately stationary and relaxed, “Sir, it’s an honor.”_

_“The honor is mine, Captain. My father served in the 101st Airborne Division. Unfortunately, Director Fury can’t join us today but we have already discussed this at length. Nick and I, we go way back. When I was at the State Department in Bogota. E.L.N. rebels took the embassy, and security got me out, but the rebels took hostages. Nick was deputy chief for the SHIELD station there. And he comes to me with a plan. He wants to storm the building through the sewers. I said, ‘No, we’ll negotiate.’ Turned out the ELN didn’t negotiate, so they put out a kill order. They stormed the basement, and what did they find? They find it empty. Nick had ignored my direct order and carried out an unauthorized military operation on foreign soil. He saved the lives of a dozen political officers, including my daughter.”_

_Unsure of where this segue is heading, Steve gave a typical observational response, “So you gave him a promotion.”_

_“I’ve never had any cause to regret it and learned a thing or two from that experience. See, I took a seat on the Council not because I wanted to but because Nick asked me to, because we were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy and the handshaking and the rhetoric, that to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. And that makes enemies. Captain, I’d like you to meet Agent Brock Rumlow and Agent John Garrett. Agent Rumlow will be commanding the new STRIKE task force, while Combat Specialist Agent Garrett here was trained by Nick himself and currently doing some recruiting of his own.”_

_Steve only had a moment to exchange nods with the other two before Pierce bulldozed on._

_“The extraterrestrials speaks of war in one breath and harvesting Earth’s abundant resources in another. You look at the Alliance treaty long enough and you learn to see it for what it is. After first contact, Nick had the foresight to convince the World Security Council that we needed a quantum surgeon threat analysis. Hard to do when they’re playing on your home turf. For once we can be ahead of the curve, Captain. This is our chance to breach their worlds, mount an offensive and get the upper hand.”_

_Although Pierce hadn’t outright said it, the idea of using Tony’s wedding for espionage purposes didn’t sit well with Steve. An alliance should be built with a modicum of trust, not what can be used as leverage. His face pinched in dismay before replying, “I will consider your suggestion, sir.”_

_“It’s not a suggestion, Captain.”_

_Not the least bit intimidated, Steve promptly ignores the command, “I can’t in good conscious show up to Tony’s wedding bringing two absolute strangers. Pack mates trust each other, that’s what makes it a pack. Not a bunch of people thrown together because they were told to.”_

_Steve didn’t need to scent the spike in testosterone levels to note the head Alpha had taken his words as a challenge to his authority. It wasn’t, but Pierce reacted as if it were all the same. The former Secretary leant forward in his seat and folded his hands on the table before glowering at Steve, “Strong words for an Omega, but under the Pack Ordinance Code section 2.3, you have no right to make that claim. Only an Alpha can speak for the group. Furthermore, your Avengers are under SHIELD command and I order you to make it so.”_

_If Steve wasn’t a super soldier a lesser Omega would have caved under the onslaught. Fortunately, the super serum afforded him the iron fortitude to dispel such debilities. Steve went from at ease to defensive in one smooth motion when he crossed his arms and stood to his full height, “With all due respect, the POC also states that a person can’t force themselves or others into a pack either. The Avengers is what we chose to call ourselves and we’re self-funded. We allied with SHIELD also by choice. My pack decides.”_

_And that’s final was left unsaid._

* * *

He didn’t quite storm out of the conference room, but the abrupt nod he gave in departure without being dismissed may as well be considered as one. Phil hadn’t followed him out. The Alpha must have stayed behind to smooth things over. He made a mental note to apologize to the Alpha later and maybe ask about the encrypted thumb drive. He hadn’t opened it despite knowing what JARVIS is capable of since Fury specifically wanted Tony to take a look at it. What Steve wants to know is why he thought the deceit was necessary in the first place?

A sound not unlike a doorbell chime alerts him of company. The A.I. confirms it a second later.

“Mister Rogers, our first guest has arrived. I have informed Second Lieutenant Rhodes of your current occupation and he will meet you at the Round Table War room.”

Steve rolls his eyes at the archaic reference (no doubt a prank by Tony) then addresses the ceiling, “Can we not call it that, JARVIS?”

“What would you suggest, sir?”

“Conference room will do.”

“Very well, preference noted. Also, Miss Potts called earlier and announced that she will most likely be late due to traffic. I’ve taken the liberty to relay the shortest route to Mister Hogan.”

He leaves DUM-E to clean up the rest then grabs a gym towel to mop up the surface layer of sweat on his face and neck before draping it over his shoulders. It was too late to wash off the layers of irritation and worry lingering on his skin. It wouldn’t do if he accidentally triggers a transformation from Bruce when the Beta has been handling Tony’s absence so well. If the flighty scientist decides to even show up that is. Same with Ms. Potts and Clint for that matter. To the outside world, as much as Steve is the leader of the Avengers, Tony’s the backbone to their rag tag team.

“Mister Barton and Ms. Romanoff have also arrived.”

“What!?” Steve said in alarm as he picks up his pace, “What’s Natasha doing out of the hospital? She just got out of surgery last night.”

“I have voiced your concerns, sir. Ms. Romanoff insists—and I quote,” JARVIS then plays a soundbite of Natasha’s actual voice recording, “ _’It took a bit of persuading, but SHIELD doctors discharged me for at-home rest this morning. So, I’m home. Resting.’_ ”

The A.I. then resumes his normal voice, “I told them you are on your way as well as instructed U to deliver a tray of beverages to the conference room. Would that be all?”

“Yes…um, thank you,” Murmurs Steve more out of habit than expressing actual gratitude since it still astonishes him to learn how thoughtful the A.I. can be. He had always assumed that Tony programmed the talking computer to cater to his every whim because he was too busy or lazy to do things himself, turns out was partly true. On the other hand, Steve never bothered to ask JARVIS for anything except the occasional _‘where’s Tony’_ or _‘has Tony eaten yet’_ type of questions. But ever since Tony’s been gone, the A.I. has taken the initiative to engage with Steve more as if he’s the one who’s lonely, which should be scary considering how much bad sci-fi Tony made him sit through when it was the brat’s turn to pick a movie for movie night. So he knows enough to understand that Skynet is a possibility. Although, the others didn’t seem to have or has yet to express any concerns regarding that as a threat. Maybe he’s just being overly paranoid considering the conversation he had last night. 

Steve finally reaches the conference room with the wall length computer screen and the overtly large round table modeled after its legendary namesake except in Tony’s version there’s a three-dimensional projector fixed at the center console. Rhodes had just moved Natasha’s seat out of the way so that Clint could maneuver her wheelchair bound self in its place. For a person who’s been shot two days ago, she looks markedly recovered.

He crosses the threshold and approaches their little gathering, a frown marring his smooth features.

“Clint, what were you thinking? She should be properly looked after just in case of complications.”

The Beta in question immediately rose both arms up in mock surrender, “Hey, it wasn’t my idea. You know how stubborn she can be.”

“She’s,” Piped in Natasha, “right here and can speak for herself.”

She then gives Steve a pointed look after adjusting the hospital blanket more into a shawl, “By the way, Phil dropped by and hinted that we best talk to you out of SHIELD’s electronic earshot. What’s going on Steve?”

“Oh good, I haven’t missed anything,” Chimes in a very clip professional voice whom for some reason JARVIS fails to announce despite the super soldier having caught a whiff of her perfume before she had even spoken. Dressed in an off-white two piece suit, matching pumps and her long strawberry blond hair in a pony-tail, Miss Potts looks every part the Alpha CEO of Stark Industries. It still astonishes him how far America has come in establishing gender and second gender equality. It wasn’t perfect but definitely better than the forties.

Then JARVIS makes the announcement a tad too late, “Miss Potts has arrived.”

Steve sigh of annoyance was eclipsed by Miss Potts’ cry of surprise, “Natasha! Are you hurt? What happened?”

In five quick strides, Miss Potts was at Natasha’s side and maintaining a respectable distance, being mindful not to crowd in the other Alpha’s territory. It was an unspoken rule between the two that has Steve scratching his head. Despite both femmes being part of the Avengers directly and indirectly, neither has claimed the pack per se. Instead, they have both chosen to remain as part of the inner group and follow Steve and Tony’s orders respectively.

“Just another day at the office, Pepper. I’ve had worse. Anyways, Steve here has an announcement to make. Right, Steve?”

As if that’s their cue, all heads turn towards the Captain with varying degrees of curiosity. Grim faced at the reminder, Steve waves a hand at everyone else to take a seat. It was no use to wait for Bruce. If the Beta hadn’t shown up yet then he’s most likely opted to forgo the meeting, which is a shame really. Poor Bruce must have reverted back to living in isolation just in case.

Steve waited for everyone to settle in, choosing to stand beside his usual seat instead of sitting when he addresses the group, “First off, I would like to apologize for the short notice and thank you all for coming. I was hoping to hear from Bruce and see how he’s holding up but that will have to wait. Unfortunately, we don’t have much time so I’ll cut to the chase. Yesterday, I heard from Phil that Tony has accepted Prince Thor’s proposal. Both Natasha and Clint can attest to this.”

“Wow! They sure work fast don’t they? Two weeks and bam! Marry me!” Rhodes mock proposes to Clint with his usual sarcastic humor that reminds Steve of Tony so much.

Clint spins his chair around to face the other and barks out a laugh, “I’m off market, man! But seriously, I’m surprised Tony said yes so quickly. I mean, he was all but dragging feet the last few days before he left, you know. Is there a picture of the alien Prince? Could explain the sudden rush to rid his v-card.”

“I say it’s about damn time,” agrees Rhodes with a fist bump to Clint.

“If there is, you should ask Phil, he’s escorted Director Fury to a few of those level 7 summits. I doubt he’ll say anything,” chimes in Natasha in good humor before teasing further, “Although I overheard the few Asgardian representatives they’d sent was over six feet six and rivaled the Juggernaut in physique.”

In response, Miss Potts made a face before saying her piece with a wry twist of her red painted lips, “Doesn’t sound like Tony’s type. I got more purported complaints in HR from mostly leggy interns, but then again I also received many proposals for Tony sent from your typical beefy Alphas. I’d say the Prince is the one who wants to cache in on Tony’s v-card.”

The Alpha femme’s mock the males with a high five of their own (though less enthusiastically due to Natasha’s injury) and shared a look of pure mischief. That’s when Steve decides to jump in to bring the topic back on track. They weren’t here to discuss Tony’s virginity of all things.

“Phil also said that I’m allowed to bring two people with me.”

Surprisingly he receives a smile from Miss Potts, a frown from Rhodes and a question from somewhere behind him, “I guess we’re drawing straws?”

Immediately Steve swings around and directs his full attention to the newcomer who’s fidgeting by the door. Bruce flashes a tentative smile and looks like he’s ready to bolt any minute. So Steve springs into action and carefully collects the Beta into a one arm hug in greeting before drawing Bruce further into the room then onto his seat by Rhodes.

“Doctor Banner has arrived, sir,” announces JARVIS rather dryly as U rolls in with a tray of everyone’s preferred drinks.

Both Clint and Rhodes got up and grab their respective drinks and help disperse the rest. Steve shakes his head in further exasperation before pressing onwards when the pack settles down again. He starts with, “It’s good to see you, Bruce.”

And about the same time, Natasha throws out, “How long have you’ve been lurking, Bruce?”

The Beta looks down at his herbal tea, smirks before glancing at Steve then Natasha in apology, “Long enough to hear it’s about Tony…and um, sorry to hear that you got hurt.”

“Probably not as sorry as the sniper,” she quipped before tilting her head at her bonded just as he took a drink, “Clint’s the one who ghost him.”

It was a near thing; thankfully Clint had already swallowed his coffee and not spewed it everywhere. The result: was a sharpshooter with a coughing fit. Steve by pass that hot mess and redirects again.

“As I was saying, they’re allowing me to bring two people along. Only problem is, I met with Councilman Pierce and he expressly recommends Agent Rumlow and Agent Garrett as my plus two.”

The room exploded as everyone spoke on top of each other. Yet somehow Steve was able to make out each comment.

“Ah, hell no!” was Rhodes’s instant remark.

While Miss Potts sums up her response as well as the disbelief from Bruce, “You can’t be serious!”

Clint had the most colorful of them all, “You told those losers to fuck off, right?”

Then there was Natasha’s, whom waited a beat afterwards in perfect timing and shrewdness, “What does Phil has to say about this?”

That worked better in getting all their attention than anything Steve could have come up with. He looked at each one of them before parting with the details, “Pierce wanted to use this opportunity as a loop hole to the Alliance treaty and make it into an intelligence gathering mission. My response, though in not so many words as Clint would’ve liked, was: Tony is part of our pack and we decide. Then I left. “

“Right before the meeting, Phil said something about planning: _‘a little weekend trip myself’_ and _‘the forecast looks pretty good tomorrow, nothing but sunshine and rainbows if you wake up earlier enough.’_ I’m not that familiar in Phil-speak to make it out. What do you think, Clint? Natasha?”

Clint and Natasha shared a few looks before she shrugs then raise a brow for Clint to reply, “Our guess is that since you didn’t finish the mission briefing they intended, Pierce and his lackeys will either make another attempt to persuade you or threaten you with a court martial sometime this weekend if you don’t comply. Most likely scenario is that they will hijack the wedding invitation and make an excuse for you to be missing. And Phil wants whosever going to be ready sometime this morning and get dropped off somewhere with the codename: sunshine and rainbows?”

It wasn’t just Clint, but everyone looks at Natasha for confirmation on that last part too. She merely shrugs again at their collective puzzled expressions.

JARVIS then breaks the silence, “If I may, sir?”

Steve nods at the ceiling and ignores the snickering from both Clint and Rhodes.

“A quick Google search with the keywords: Asgard, Alfheim, sunshine and rainbows yielded 21,200 hits related to the Bifrost, a.k.a. the rainbow bridge that connects Asgard with Midgard according to the Old Norse mythology, sir.”

With a huge grin on his face, Clint ever so nicely sums it up, “So Phil wants us to be ready a.s.a.p. and catch the reading rainbow express. I’m in!”


	3. The Wrong Foot, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for the long wait. I've been tweaking this for a while and finally am 90% satisfied with the results. Hopefully other chapters will be quicker from now on. Note, the description of Stark Mansion is based off the comic books layout of the compound. I'll probably come back to fix any blaring mistakes later. 
> 
> There will be another chapter here before it goes back to 'Sigh No More'. Until then. Please enjoy!

Steve had assumed, given how opposed his pack was towards a couple of outsiders attending Tony’s wedding, that there would be the same equal amount of readiness to go themselves. In this he was wholly mistaken. When an awkward silence takes up residence, Clint’s disappointment mirrored his own, though he did not contort his features in a way that resembled a kicked puppy.

Naturally it did little to dampen Clint’s enthusiasm however, “Its Tony Stark’s wedding were talking about; practically the wedding of the century; no, galaxy! It’s a chance of a lifetime.”

At this point Clint rose from his chair and began ticking each key point using his fingers to illustrate, “Travel via wormhole? Visit another planet? Meet _real_ aliens? Be a fucking guest at a royal wedding? I mean, how many people can even claim one of those that are not high, an E.T. groupie, or Tony Stark?”

As far as rallying speeches goes, it was sound though a bit shallow, crass and upsetting to say the least. Steve was familiar enough with the modern usage of the words high and groupie to take offense, especially when Tony was used within the same context. When the awkward pause continues a beat later, Clint threw a hand up in disbelief, “I can’t believe this bull—”

“Look, it’s not all cut and dry,” Rhodes finally spoke up before the vocal archer goes on a full on rant. Having gotten the pack’s attention however, the young lieutenant makes a face before he reluctantly explains, “It’s not like I don’t want to go. It’s just that I have other things to consider.”

Rhodes then searched the faces of his fellow hesitant attendees and received a minute nod from Miss Potts, so he continues, “I’m still active military. Having permission to participate in the Avengers Initiative as a joint task force is a privilege, but it’s different when I have to explain (last minute mind you) to my superiors (who doesn’t have the same level of clearance with SHIELD in being a member of the pack would, by the way) that I’m attending Tony Stark’s wedding on another planet. Can you imagine the questions and problems that could generate?”

Steve suspected Miss Potts reasoning were probably along the same line when she added soon after, “Likewise, I’m the newly appointed CEO and currently being vetted by the Board of Directors. So as much as I’m used to dealing with Tony’s mess, this isn’t the same as being his personal assistant. If I were to take a sudden leave of absence, it’ll be a disaster considering I’m still filling up the literal and figurative hole Stane left behind. As much as I want to attend, I have the whole of Stark Industries to consider.”

She paused to let the seriousness of their situation sink in with Clint before offering a different scenario with an encouraging smile, “I think Tony would understand why James and I chose not to go. Besides, the new couple must renew their vows on Earth once they make their debut. I can’t imagine Tony not coming back and have a proper New Yorker wedding. Now that, I can P.R. into _the_ wedding of the galaxy with the headline: ‘Earth’s most sought after Omega marries Asgardian Prince.’”

Clint doesn’t seem convinced however when he braced both palms on the conference table and leaned forward to try a different tactic, “Who’s to say his Alpha will let him come back? What if this is our last chance to send Tony off properly and give this alien Prince the obligatory shovel talk?”

Rhodes snorts in disbelief before he shot the archer’s argument down, “Come on, man. Have you met Tony? He does what he wants and I pity the Alpha who says no to him.”

“Then I can’t imagine any person more threatening than Bruce to deliver his signature Hulk-smash if this Prince so much as raise his voice at Tony,” suggests Natasha with a playful lilt and wink at the Beta scientist.

It had the opposite affect than she intended. Even though there had been no incidents since Harlem which was a little over a year ago, color still drain from Bruce’s face at the reminder when he stammers out an objection, “Uh, ah—actually…Hulk-smashing an alien Prince is a bad idea. In fact, Hulk on any planet is a bad—”

And Clint cuts the other Beta off, “Nat, you’re not coming?”

As much as Bruce’s self-deprecating words bothered Steve, he would have prefer a different method instead of such a rude interruption. His frown deepens as he witness Clint’s professionalism continues to degrade in proportion to the proximity of his bonded. If Steve hadn’t seen firsthand what SHIELD’s top agent was capable of, he would not be able to reconcile this side of the Beta. He kept silent though in hopes to hear more from the team before making the final call. Thus, Steve just barely suppresses a full-on wince when the archer drops heavily on his chair and expounds with a whine, “I thought you of all people would jump at the chance to boldly go where no femme has gone before. Come on babe, we’re still in our bonding phase. I can’t leave without you.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes before cataloging in no uncertain terms, “First of all, don’t call me babe. Secondly, it ended over a month ago, you big dope. Thirdly, have you forgotten I’m currently injured? Last and most importantly, have you considered the fallout with Secretary Pierce once you, Steve and Bruce succeed to the rendezvous point? Someone has to stay behind and clean up this mess.”

Poor Bruce, upon hearing the direction he’s being volunteered for, tries valiantly to withdraw his involvement either way, “Wait, I don’t—” 

And was rudely interrupted by the archer yet again, “Yeah, I have. In fact, we have two options: our handler and the Director himself.”

Clint’s smug grin did little to change Natasha’s demeanor, it only made her look more intense. Steve shook his head and held back the smile he would have made in agreement if only to discourage the archer from cutting Bruce off again. At this rate, he was more worried about the other Beta going green than the potential fallout with Secretary Pierce.

As much as Pierce would be a concern, Steve doesn’t think his actions should warrant criminal prosecution as Clint and Natasha had surmised. A missed opportunity to commit intergalactic espionage shouldn’t be means for disciplinary actions especially considering his title of Captain is more honorary than active military since he’d woken. In fact, after his status was reinstated by the Army, Steve had the option to serve or retire. Bearing in mind he’s over ninety years old (at least on paper) Steve chose to collect his pension instead. After all, he had a teenager to raise. Collaborating with SHIELD was more of a consultant side job as Tony would say, purely voluntary. If the Avengers Initiative were to fray as a result, it was better to leave the political maneuvering to the top brass. Not that the three before him weren’t capable of handling the situation, it’s just that Fury and Phil have a way of working around all the bureaucratic red tape. He could even call on an old friend just in case things went sideways.

Natasha, on the other hand, clearly seeing holes in Clint’s logic, began dredging up scenarios that signal a free-for-all to the others to do the same. If Steve was capable of headaches anymore, he would surely suffer one now, however their feedback was important to brainstorm and hopefully mitigate potential outcomes. A few more minutes shouldn’t hurt.

Over ten minutes later and no closer to reaching a consensus on how to handle any potential fallouts or for that matter selecting a third attendee, Steve was more than a bit relieved when the AI interrupted as it did.

“Pardon me, sirs.”

The heated discussion ceased midsentence for some. Unlike Clint’s, any interruption from JARVIS warrants their full attention for Steve has learned the AI is quite selective in doing so. At this point, he cared little for ridicule when he looks up to address the ceiling again, “Yes, JARVIS?” 

“An unmarked black SUV is requesting entrance at the private access gate.”

Clint and Natasha were instantly on alert, though Steve didn’t think there was anything to be alarm over just yet. His tone adopted a sharpness that wasn’t there before however, “Any idea who?”

“According to initial facial recognition scans, it is Agent Agent, sir.”

The tension left his shoulders immediately even as Clint barks out a laugh, far less subtle then a giggle from Miss Potts and a smile from the rest. As a result Steve released an exasperated breath before he automatically makes the correction prior to addressing the issue, “Preference change to Agent Phil Coulson. JARVIS, why are we screening him?”

“The young Master has expressly stated that Agent Coulson be granted access only on a case-by-case notice. To paraphrase his own words, it is part of the _cat and mouse_ game he likes to play to improve security measures. How would you like to precede?”

Steve was about to say let him through when Natasha surprised all of them with, “What is your threat analysis?”

In response, JARVIS dims the light and activates the center 3D display on the conference table to layout the scaled down topography of the scans at the gate. Within the blue and white outlines of the car, they could clearly see the heat signatures of the four occupants.

“Scans of the vehicle shows four passengers total. Three of which has unusual readings indicating compositions that are 2.5 percent denser than the garden-variety human physiology and a median of 298.61 Kelvin collectively. Partial facial recognition matches 99.5% from archived footage of Ambassador Larien of Alfheim. Beyond the single standard SHIELD issue Smith and Wesson M&P 19 mm present, no other weapons detected. Caution is advised.”

Per usual, Clint brought to attention what everyone was still staring at, “Fuck me. Even their pointy ears shows up on scans.”

“Language,” chides Steve abruptly in disapproval before issuing the following orders, “JARVIS, access granted. Direct Phil to the main garage and I’ll greet them there shortly.”

“Very well, sir.”

The display cleared and the lights were returned to full brightness. That’s when Steve caught his reflection on the shiny surface of the table and immediately regretted not showering before they started. There was no helping it now. He was about to meet some alien representatives in his sweats. After dropping his gym towel over a chair, Steve was arrested in his movements upon seeing the others rising from their chairs, excluding Natasha that is.

Rhodes must have caught the surprise on his face and commented with a grin, “I may be reluctant to go to another planet with you, but there’s no way in hell I’m missing out on meeting an actual alien now.”

A cursory scan of the packs expectant faces has Steve shaking his head. Thus, he doesn’t bother to protest when he turns around and head down the hallway, back towards the gym and through the pump room in order to reach the turbo lift. Although rarely used unless they were moving equipment to the sub level basements, it was the most direct route that leads up to the main garage. Due to JARVIS’ expediency, the door to the lift was already open and waiting for them. He gestured for Clint to push Natasha in first prior to the rest of the pack filing in. Without prompting, the door then closes and they began ascending to the ground floor.

They were en route when Miss Potts spoke up with worry in her voice, “Mister Rogers, I couldn’t help but feel like were committing some sort of faux pas in not receiving the Ambassador properly.”

It was a legitimate concern. Miss Potts was used to dealing with power players as a personal assistant of Tony Stark. First impressions and undue respect were paramount in a business deal. However, considering their current circumstances, Steve couldn’t help but smile before he explains, “Since our guests came here unannounced and Phil specifically omitted any mentioning of them, it’s safe to assume this meeting was never meant to take place. Outside of the high walls and JARVIS’ own surveillance, we don’t know who else may be watching the mansion in light of what Clint and Natasha had just warned us about.”

“Level 7 security measures dictate that all alien races are kept under strict quarantine,” added Natasha with a thoughtful hum before she continues, “the protocols to establish communication with them are at and above Director Fury level access. So something must have happened for Phil’s plan to change overnight.”

“Since when did you get the low-down on Level 7 protocols?” said Clint with a bit of surprise and more than a hint of jealousy. Natasha in turn kept her smile as mysterious as the Mona Lisa. Clearly, upon realizing that she wouldn’t be explaining herself anytime soon, the archer huffs and decidedly branches off on an easier tangent, “Wait a second, no one else is going to deal with the fact that Tony apparently has archived footage of these aliens and Cap just said, ‘language’?”

Steve drops his head in awkwardness, “it just slipped out,” and sighs under his breath at the other reminder, “and only JARVIS knows what Tony has in his archive.”

Not a moment too soon, the elevator opens directly to the garage. The black SUV was already parked in the loading zone and their four guests were standing in front of it with the morning sun shining brightly behind them. Phil decked out in his usual black suit attire greets Steve with a nod. As his pack approaches the newcomers he was hit with the mixed scent of sandalwood, oiled leather, sea salt and coffee. 

The alien Alpha was flanked by two Betas. Wherein the duo were dressed in basic black boots, low slung jeans, band t-shirts, and muted hoodies covering their most prominent feature, the Alpha sported loafers, grey slacks with matching tweed vest, white shirt, and a mauve beanie. It worked regardless of the Alpha’s eclectic white Fu Manchu and long ponytail reminiscent of those oriental martial art movies Tony liked to watch. As far as disguises goes, they were sound and fit right in with the civilian populace.

They stopped within a yard when Phil began the introductions, “Ambassador Larien of Alfheim, I would present to you Captain Steve Rogers and the Avengers.”

Steve steps forward and the Alpha meets him half-way before bowing briefly with a fist placed over his heart. His Beta escorts did the same. Mimicking the other’s custom, Steve and his pack mates follow suit.

“Tis a pleasure to finally meet you, Captain. I have heard so much about you and your pack,” stated the Elf with a fondness Steve wasn’t prepared for. 

So he returns the gesture with equal humor tinge with a bit of skepticism, “Not all bad I hope.”

Ambassador Larien then raise a hand to stroke his beard as he teases further, “Considering the source is from Prince Anthony himself notwithstanding some of your world news outlet, I assure you there were nothing but praises.”

“Doesn’t sound like the Tony I know,” scoffs Clint under his breath followed by an ‘ow’ most likely via an elbow to the rib from Natasha.

The Ambassador chuckles briefly at the display before clarifying, “Ah, ‘Twas only just yesterday when he made a speech about the Captain to King Frey and the court of Gimlé. It was rousing to say the least. Not only did he won the hand of Prince Thor but the hearts of the courtiers as well. Not an easy fete, that. His expressed wish has been granted, though not all of you may attend unfortunately. Have you decided who? We shall have to leave a.s.a.p. so that we can make it to dinner. I am greatly looking forward to Prince Anthony’s addition to the menu. ”

Steve was more than a bit disoriented and not just from adjusting to the bombastic, almost Shakespearean prose of the Ambassador’s speech pattern mixed with modern day words. That was unexpected and makes him wonder how Tony is faring considering his opinion whenever it was Steve’s turn for movie night picks. What he was confused about most is how this came to be. It seemed almost anticlimactic given the circumstances their pack had just discussed.

“Yes and no,” Steve hedged, before he squares his jaw and apologizes briskly, “I’m sorry, Ambassador. I don’t mean to be curt but there is a question I would like to address first, if you don’t mind?”

The old elf gave a nod for Steve to continue. So he glances at Phil before saying, “After the meeting I had with Secretary Pierce, I had assumed we would have some difficulty meeting at the transport site in Puente Antiguo. As you can see, I am more than a bit confused that you’re here. Could you please explain what is going on?”

Beyond a smug grin stretching across the Ambassador’s face, he didn’t elaborate and only stroke his beard in a proud manner. So Steve looks at Phil again until the Agent shrugged and deadpanned, “Don’t look at me, I’m just the driver held at gun point to bring them here.”

Alarmed by this news, Steve turns his attention back to the old elf who finally chips in to the mystery.

“Agent Coulson was most helpful in explaining the meaning of diplomatic immunity and SHIELD’s response in handling certain scenarios when we last met. Alas, when I received a mysterious message stating that you, Captain, will not be able to attend, inspiration struck and we surprised Agent Coulson this morning on a coffee run. I am most fond of the mocha latte with extra froth. Is that included in the cookbook, by the by?” 

While amused by the tale, Steve drew a blank at the non sequitur even though Phil replies as a matter-of-fact, “Don’t think so,” before turning back to him and said, “that reminds me, it’s in the glove compartment along with the urban dictionary Tony requested. Captain, don’t forget to take those with you.”

When he heard laughter behind him, Steve took note that his pack must have connected the pieces together at about the same time he did. Though that certainly solved one problem, there still the issue of accessing the transport site.

“I won’t,” Steve promised before addressing the next obstacle, “I suppose you have a plan to get us access to the rendezvous point too?”

“Actually—,” started Phil right at the same time the Ambassador answered, “Aye.”

The agent cuts himself off to take in the other Alpha’s confident demeanor then shrugs before saying, “I guess we do,” as he reaches into his breast pocket and take out a phone. Phil then excused himself with a gesture and stood to the side.

When the Ambassador doesn’t elaborate any further, Steve assumed it would be revealed en route and succinctly move on to actions they can take to speed things along.

“I suppose that’s our cue to load up the Quinjet with an overnight bag and Tony’s trousseau. Unless you want to review the contents before we go? I won’t count it against him to sneak a few items that he’s not supposed to considering he built and packed the storage pod himself. Knowing Tony, he most likely keyed it so only he can open it. So maybe not.”

Ambassador Larien chuckled at Steve’s deflating words before commenting, “He did seem rather at ease with his lack of technology surrounding him when we last spoke. It would not surprise me at all were it to be the case given your knowledge of him.” 

That’s when Phil jumps in after handing the books over to Steve, “I just heard from Agent May that our hour lead has now shorten to thirty minutes. Whatever you need to do Captain, better make it quick.”

Steve nods his thanks before walking back to his pack to make some quick decisions, “This isn’t a mission but considering we’re going to a planet with a feudal system, its best to bring our gear just in case. So I’ll only ask this once, has anyone changed their minds?”

For a brief moment, he thought it would only be Clint until the hesitant rise of Bruce’s hand has everyone smiling or slapping his back with encouragement. The timid scientist then said with a lopsided grin, “As Tony would say, my inner Trekkie won’t forgive me if I pass this up. So yeah, I’m in as long as the lullaby works.”

Smiling in excitement, Steve rapid fired his orders, “Clint, Bruce, go pack whatever you need and meet back here in fifteen minutes. Rhodes, can you work with JARVIS to retrieve Tony’s pod? He stashed it somewhere in sub level 2, saying something about: ‘out of sight, out of mind.’”

Rhodes nod in affirmation so he continues, “I’ll meet everyone back in fifteen. In the meantime, Natasha, Miss Potts, I hope you two don’t mind playing host,” then he turns to their guests, “Ambassador, we’ll see you then.”

* * *

Twelve minutes later, freshly showered and suited up, Steve grabs his prepacked luggage and ran into Clint in the hallway, whose also suited and carrying two duffle bags of his own. He raised a brow in question where the archer quip in return, “What? I have a lot of ammo.”

They both took the elevator down to the gallery on the ground floor and walked across the public conference room, through the patio to get to the garage. As they approach, Rhodes with the aid of Bruce, was pushing the five by five feet cube out of the turbo lift. The metal container looked heavy and thankfully was mobile on reinforced castor wheels. And indeed, there was a large rectangular panel for the interface and most likely powered by the solar cells atop the box. Tony did thought of everything. The little rascal. 

Unfortunately, it was way too big to fit through the elevator to the roof where the Quinjet was kept. As they converge at the loading zone, Steve drops his bag next to Bruce’s before instructing Clint, who did the same, to prep the Quinjet and park it in the quad. That’s when the Ambassador cuts in, “that won’t be necessary, Captain.”

Steve wasn’t even aware that they were listening in on the situation especially when Miss Potts was entertaining the old elf with a story about Tony. Thinking perhaps it was time for their plan to be revealed, he focused his attention on the other. Their time was running out.

Instead of explaining though, the Ambassador pulls out a small black, round river stone from his vest pocket. There was a rune carved in and painted a blood red. Steve glanced at Phil who seem as stumped as they were. At first nothing happens as they stood awkwardly staring at the old elf, then Steve saw it. A rippling of the air before them, not unlike a mirage though parallel to where they’re standing. The ripple began to magnify as if pummeled repeatedly by an invisible water droplet until a pure image of a stone terrace manifested out of thin air. From what he could see, it was late in the afternoon as the foreign structures on the other side were already casting long shadows. Steve knew he wasn’t the only one with his jaw dropped in awe.

Phil was the first to get his tongue to work when he lamented, “Ambassador Larien, I don’t think you’ve been completely honest with me.”

“How else do you suppose I communicate with my king?” replies the old the elf when he signals his Beta escorts to take Tony’s trousseau and follow him through the hole cut into reality.

Phil was lost for words and seem to be pondering the logistics of interplanetary communication using a pebble. Steve however was practical enough to know that the clock was ticking and they need to use the odd portal first and ask questions later. So he picked up his own luggage, wave his goodbye and stepped through with Bruce closely behind him. 

Steve didn’t feel any different as he literally took a step from one world to another and traded the brisk morning air of upstate New York for a warm seaside retreat complete with the scent of the ocean, exotic flowers and meat being roasted somewhere nearby. It was surreal. There was even a castle, and two moons overlooking a waterfall and a harbor not far in the horizon. He could stay here all day and spend hours sketching out the scenery.

While he and Bruce were marveling at the splendor, they heard a commotion on the other side. That’s when he noticed Clint has yet to pass through and the portal was doing that odd rippling effect again. Taking a wild guess on what that means, Steve was about to shout for him to hurry when the words were taken right out of his mouth.

“Damn it, Clint!”

Natasha, wheel chair and all, was holding her side panting in pain and frustration when the pair caught the shock in everyone’s faces.

He—,” as Natasha started and Clint hurriedly cut her off and finished, “we’re still bonding.”

The glare she emitted was so terrifying, Steve wondered how Clint was still standing. The archer, eyes wide with panic, was visibly swallowing uncontrollably before another commotion seized their attention. A crash followed by a woman’s scream has Clint taking off without a backward glance. Steve shakes his head, sends a signal for Bruce to stay with Natasha and runs after the escapee.

The castle hallway was strangely deserted when he heard a roar echoed pass, followed by another loud crash from the open archway nearby only to have Clint, with his gun drawn, barreling through half-cocked. Steve drew his shield from its perch on his back and quickened his steps only to stop and stare at an enraged, armored brute upturning tables left and right as the elves around him cower in fear.

As far as making a first impression goes, he really didn’t mind kicking some ass. For bullies are certainly universal no matter what planet he’s on.


	4. Thunder Meet Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter update will be over at "Sigh No More" in a week or two. Wish me luck! Until then, please enjoy!

Their sudden appearance was met with arrested tension from the small crowd. In that split second, Steve took stock of his surroundings, well what’s left of it that is. Despite the chaos, the room was clearly used as a mess hall of sorts. The stone walls looked sturdy and the vaulted ceiling left plenty of space to maneuver. Steve wouldn’t have to be too careful in throwing his shield nor worry about hitting civilians or it flying out the slit windows. He would just have to avoid the floor to ceiling tapestry behind the dais, some scattered wall sconces, and a large hanging wheel chandelier to limit the amount of damage that’s already been done.

Luckily, most of the frightened elves had taken advantage of the sudden distraction to escape. The brute looks human, though dressed as if he’d stepped out from a display at the Smithsonian and smells noxiously like an Alpha with a super-sized ego, pause in mid tirade. Confusion flitted across that bearded scowl a brief moment before that anger redirected to a different target upon seeing their weapons drawn. With a menacing gait he advances while his booming voice echoes in the hall, “You dare threaten me! You puny—”

Clint fires a warning shot, just a hairbreadth from the other’s foot. The Alpha halts and stares at the smoking hole on the floor in disbelief. A beat later, the sing of metal caught Steve’s keen hearing. In reflex, he sprints the few steps needed and deflects the throwing knife with a flick of his shield. The weapon repelled back and with a piercing thwack, lodged deep into the wall missing the thrower by an inch. Instantly, weapons were drawn from multiple angles responding clearly to what the remaining spectators thought of that.

This was not how Steve imagined his typical weekend would turn out: from a morning jog to a mission to being on another planet. He’s still reeling from the latter, but that was neither here nor there. Fight first, retrospect later. After releasing an irritated breath, he rallied alongside Clint with his shield in defensive position before glancing over. 

The archer met his eyes and looking particularly unimpressed, deadpans even, “What? He was freaking me out.”

Steve extended his glance into a pointed one and this time, Clint mocks flinch before admitting gravely, “Better odds facing them than her I’d say. She knows things, _sensitive_ things.”

Steve fought the urge to run a hand through his hair in spite his headgear being firmly in place. It served as a good reminder that for now, the absurdity of the Beta’s assessment will have to be postpone. Whether this SNAFU turns into some kind of diplomatic incident or not remains to be seen. Bottom line is: Steve knows bad conduct when he sees it no matter the culture or planet. The Alpha needed to be taken down a peg or two. Though, it was the other four, most likely his pack mates who smells strangely like Alphas, that had Steve more peeved than intimidated. They had stood by and did nothing while their leader goes AWOL, only to come to his defense when a challenge was issued. 

Piercing blue eyes met piercing blue. Steve grits his teeth and squares his shoulders in preparation for a fight that never came.

“What is the meaning of this?”

The authority behind those words rang clear without the speaker even raising her voice. Steve was dumbstruck especially when he saw the pack of Alphas visibly flinch as a whole before sheathing their weapons with a mixture of restraint to downright disappointment. The tension literally simmers down to zero with the femme’s entrance. Considering there was a maternal quality to her tone, Steve follows suit as he secured his shield behind his back. Clint, on the other hand, was not so quick to holster his gun.

The woman, dressed in a teal gown most reminiscent of the fourteenth century French Renaissance, glides into the room with a handful of attendance. One of them stood out amongst the group. A rather thin and frail looking elf that Steve recognized as the first to flee rounded out the entourage though the elf tried his best to hide from view. She sidesteps her way around the debris easily and makes her way to stand before the lead Alpha. With just one glance she had him looking contrite for only a split second before the bearded Alpha met Steve’s steady gaze and tip his chin up. Steve squared his jaw and refused to take the bait. The woman in turn, shakes her head and directs her attention to the two strangers.

Upon seeing their uniforms, recognition lit up her face and she quickly expresses her regret, “My apologies for receiving you poorly just now, we were informed that you were to arrive an hour before the evening meal. Oh, where are my manners! I am Frigga, sister to King Frey. Welcome to the Halls of Gimlé.”

Steve, entirely out of his depths, straightens up before hurriedly making an awkward bow (in which he tugged Clint to do the same) and was preempted from being tongue-tied when the Ambassador arrived just in the nick of time.

“Tis my fault, your Majesty, I was embroiled in a bit of intrigue before collecting the Avengers here,” said the old elf as he move to stand beside Steve with the rest of the Avengers in toll. Bruce was wheeling Natasha in when Clint promptly takes over the duty, most likely to stay out of range from her Widow’s bite. Her calm demeanor seems to undercut the Beta’s survival instincts however, at least on the surface that is.

The Ambassador then continues in an upbeat tone as if unaware of the destruction around him, “Hopefully, I may not have to surrender myself upon my return to Midgard. Until then—”

“We are wasting time,” Interjects the gruff Alpha who finally lost the little patience he had causing more than a few present to jump at how loud it came out. He then adds dismissively, “Whoever these people are should be greeted in due course. Have you heard? Lord Einar should have his hide blackened for allowing this to transpire.”

There was an indignant protest from somewhere within the crowd where Steve darted his eyes to note the same elf from before stiffening with a good mixture of affront and fright. Steve took care to keep his breath even and his face blank. Wherein their host paused only for a moment before she spoke like a person who’s used to exercising great tolerance as she turns her attention back to the Alpha, “I understand your concern; however taking your anger out on the messenger will not help matters. Furthermore, the situation requires a gathering of packs to assist. Even if you were to organize this speedily, nightfall will hit your party before you are halfway there.”

By the stubborn look on the Alpha, Steve doubted that would persuade him. And he was right when the other insists, “Then I shall saddle Sleipnir and go by my—”

“And pray, tell me, where will you go? Even if you were to drag Hogun along, where do you even begin to track before the forest becomes shrouded by mist and left both of you stranded? Your efforts will benefit no one and only exacerbate the situation further. We shall speak of it no more until morning light. Gather your party then and pray to the Norns that our missive to Onollo will be answered and prove all a misunderstanding. In the meantime, I would have you apologize to our guests.”

The Alpha doesn’t seem too pleased with her comments or request. Instead, he folds his arms in mutiny after donning a put upon look while his pack mates shook their heads as if it was a joke. Frigga too, releases a sigh in exasperation before pointedly dismissing the behavior as one would a child and nods at the Ambassador to make the introductions. The old elf doesn’t even bat an eye when he takes the cue and begins, “I would present to you: Captain Steven Rogers, Agent Clinton Barton, Agent Natasha Romanoff and Doctor Robert Bruce Banner. Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff are at the end of their bonding period, hence the plus one as the Midgardian’s would say. I hope your Majesty will not be offended by this misstep?”

Frigga exchange nods with each of them as they were presented. Then with a smile gracing her lips she faces both Clint and Natasha when she replies, “There is no misstep. We had assumed the likelihood of such an outcome ever since Anthony mentioned this several days ago. Bonded pairs will pose no threat to the upcoming proceedings. Therefore, worry not and do enjoy the festivities.”

She then addresses the Avengers as a whole, “Regrettably, Anthony is touring parts of Alfheim at present and will not be joining us the next few days. Your early arrival was meant as a surprise upon his return. Tis fortunate then, for him not to witness his own Betroth behaving so abominably to his old pack mates.”

Steve brows dart upwards when he swerves back to see the unabashed smirk on the Alpha’s face whose already sizing his pack and finding them wanting. It took all of Steve’s remaining faculties to suppress the feeling of being encased in ice all over again.

Distantly he heard her continue on, “We dine at sunset. I shall introduce you then to my brother and son properly once the latter remember his manners. My handmaidens shall take you to your quarters and provide assistance for the duration of your stay. Until then, I look forward to conversing with each of you.”

* * *

Steve was conflicted.

And it wasn’t the clothes he was confronted with before he took his second bath of the day. His attendant had insisted, very politely. Then he was given two options: the fine dark blue silk tunic that looks quite hard to squeeze into were he to even try or the alternative, a loose black leather ensemble that reminds him too much of what he saw that Alpha, now known as Prince Thor had worn.

That was the crux of the problem: he wants nothing to do with that brute. Not even to dress like him. And knowing, that Tony had accepted the proposal just doesn’t sit well with Steve. It would be an itch under his skin until he can talk with Tony face to face to ask him why. Obligation to one’s duty is one thing but his nephew deserves better than to be stuck with what Peggy Carter would call an Alpha chauvinist pig is another.

So for now, despite his attendant’s assurance that she would have more tailored clothes for him by morning, Steve opted to put on his SHIELD uniform. He would be more comfortable in it anyways. With that decision in mind he’d sent her away until it was time for dinner.

It wasn’t until he’d finished dressing that he heard a knock on the door. A quick glance out the open balcony had his brows furrowing since the sun has yet to fall below the oceanic horizon. His eyes darts to his shield when the door opens without his consent. A wet mop of chestnut brown pokes through, upon seeing Steve, Clint pushes the door even wider and Natasha is wheeled in followed by Bruce. All three were dressed in the dark blue silks he was presented earlier, although Natasha was the only one who looks comfortable in it.

Clint had taken one look at Steve before makes a face and points at their leader in disgust, “No fair! Why does he get to wear the uniform and we have to play Lord of the Rings dress up?”

Bruce gave a small smile and admits shyly, “I always wanted to go to the Shire and visit Hobbiton.”

“You’re such a dork,” says Clint with an eye roll before plopping himself on the stone table. For a minute there Steve thought the balance would tip over, but the slab doesn’t even wobble.

“Out of the two of us, who has the bow and arrows, Legolas?” Bruce quips back as good as he gets.

Steve shakes his head before jumping in, “Not much choice since my formal wear doesn’t fit; I’ll be the odd one out with the three of you looking so good.”

Clint looks doubtful before he brightens up with a grin, “Hold that thought, I’ll join ya.”

He moves to exit the door when Natasha finally joins the conversation, “Not when I have something to say about it. If I have to suffer this medieval torturing device they call a corset, you’re keeping that scrawny ass in leathered hose. Besides we have a few things to talk about before they come get us or have you forgotten?”

Clint looks to argue, most likely about that scrawny ass comment, so Steve cuts in to talk business. In spite the archer’s self-interest in bringing his bonded along, Steve could use her insight, “You sense it too? Like we walked into a situation and they’re deliberately sweeping it under the rug right in front of us?”

Natasha folds her hands primly before flashing her signature smirk, the one she gives when she knows something they don’t. Despite the short amount of time that went by, Steve wouldn’t be surprised if she does given her skill-set.

“Since I was injured and our attendant, Gerta, was so insistent that we bathe (probably some scent thing), she assisted me. It’s amazing what information you can pry from a handmaiden here,” she confirmed before raising a brow in question, “So what do you want to know about first? Judging by the setting sun, we maybe have ten, fifteen minutes top.”

Steve nods then asked, “What was that whole thing we walked into about?”

As if proud of his selection, Natasha preens and settles back with an exaggerated sigh as she smooth out her long skirt, “Now Gerta wouldn’t name names, but someone’s gone missing under Lord Einar’s watch.”

She lets that bit of information sink in before peeking up through her lashes, “Gee, Prince Thor seems overly invested to throw such a tantrum don’t you think? By the way, Clint, you owe Pepper ten bucks.” 

Steve ignores the archer’s grumbling as he reviews the scenario. Though it explained Thor’s reaction, it doesn’t excuse the behavior. Steve still felt compelled to protect Tony from such a brute. And now that he knows that his nephew isn’t any safer with an Alpha whose supposed to cherish and protect him, it was up to Steve to demonstrate how that’s done regardless how efficient a trouble magnet Tony is.

“So this gathering in the morning, any idea where its taking place?” 

Clint brightens up when he hops off the table and chimes in, “Are we crashing a party, Captain?”

Natasha takes in the excitement her boys were blaring before checking with Bruce who merely shrugged then gestured that he’d be staying put. So she shakes her head before suggesting, “Then I hope both your riding skills are up to snuff, ‘cause you’ll need it.”


	5. Interlude: Boredom 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Ladies and gents, I now give you a very small glimpse of Thor’s POV. Steve’s POV will be posted shortly this weekend. My apologies for the long wait. Until then, please enjoy.

Not many things had the privilege of holding his interest for long, Thor muses as he lounge back and drank amongst his pack mates after braving his mother’s displeasure. Tis a given being from a race so long lived. Admittedly, being a jaded Prince with the Nine Realms at his disposal for over a millennium has lost many novelties through its passing.

His perpetual boredom will alleviate soon enough, what with his Norn blessed destiny to be King lay unimpeded by Loki’s abdication not long ago. As it were, his brother’s inexplicably understated announcement was met with immediate suspicion. After a century, many still claim the second Prince covets the throne. Only in the past decade had his own pack mates eased their doubts and honor Loki’s noble choice. As for Thor, he loves his brother and therefore held no such thoughts against him.

Thor’s only gripe over his brother’s decision was the added withdrawal from his pack and the subsequent hole left by Loki’s absence. The past century felt ten times longer because of it. His adventures became rote and lackluster, missing the flair of mischief and strategy Loki often provided in their youth. Worst still, was the tedious aftermath of complaints seeking recompense. With Thor on the blunt receiving end of Odin’s reprimands more often than not, thus marking the experiences even less noteworthy to be sung by bards for centuries to come. At least Thor has the upcoming swarm invasion to look forward to. Then will there be epic battles to be fought and glory to be had.

Until then, his Betroth seems to be full of surprises after all. For one, those who dare harm what is his shall rue the day they cross the Mighty Thor. Had he known such an outcome would befall Anthony, Thor would have returned sooner or ignored the small distraction that was Vanaheim entirely. Although the few marauders they round up was nothing to sing about, the lavish praise from his mother’s people made the journey well worth it at the least.

As for the second, Anthony’s old pack mates although unremarkable seem to be as fearless as their leader whose unwavering gaze, dares to challenge the Thunderer himself. Why, tis unheard of and all the more amusing because of it. Thus with such inducements, t’ would be folly were Thor to let the beardless Captain down.

Moments later, ‘twas with a fierce grin when Thor greets their new guests with opened arms as soon as they walk through the threshold of the dining hall.


	6. Mano a Mano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: It’s not the weekends but I managed to finish a day late. So yeah! I’m not all too happy with the final results, but since I’ve rewritten this chapter so many times and for the life of me can’t seem to brighten it up further…. so ergo this rendition. I will most definitely return at some point to add more length to the chapter but until then, please enjoy.

Somewhere between being escorted from his room to the mess hall, Steve Rogers had a plan, well plans rather. Courtesy of each pack mates’ suggestions and objections, he had compartmentalized them into three categories with pros and cons. If Tony was here, his nephew would have easily completed the match-up game in three-seconds flat. And Steve knew exactly which one his nephew would prefer for his own search and rescue.

 

Plan A: Direct   
Approach as concerned pack mates and request to be involved with Tony’s search party.

Pros:   
Show of trust with allies by being transparent with motive.

Cons:   
Possible deniability from allies may breach trust when question on how this intel came to be. Risk factor may vary.

 

Plan B: Passive   
Remain alert and trust allies to do the right thing.

Pros:   
Show of trust with allies; has the lowest probability of creating a diplomatic incident.

Cons:   
No input in recovering Tony to ensure his safety. Allies not trusting them in return is implied.

 

Plan C: Infiltration   
Scout Prince Thor’s search party and follow at a discrete distance. If and when discovered, insist on collaboration.

Pros:   
Establish working relations with allies by citing Pack Rights.

Cons:   
Actions may be taken out of context and labeled espionage; has highest probability of creating a diplomatic incident. Key factors including foreign terrain, unknown hostiles and lack of intel may jeopardize Tony’s overall safety and their own.

 

Understandably, all three plans have their merits and risks. None felt right to Steve whose political savvy is as clumsy as Tony with a frying pan. Bottom line, only Plan C allows them any type of action yet has the highest risk factor. Not that it was the cause of Steve’s reluctance to endorse it. Since this wouldn’t necessarily be his or Clint’s first rodeo into foreign and hostile territory and it certainly won’t be their last. Considering the fact that a self-proclaimed city boy like Tony had manage to live on Alfheim for two whole weeks without any supposed mishap except for being lost (most likely kidnapped) somewhere, Steve has no doubt of their own chances of survival. So no, that wasn’t the problem. It was the certain charge of espionage that has the Captain gritting his teeth in irritation since he reprimanded Councilman Pierce for this type of mission just a little over twenty-four hours ago.

Steve is still undecided by the time they reach the mess hall. Upon seeing what greeted them though, surviving dinner immediately took precedents.

* * *

“This is insane!” shouts Bruce above the din with equal amount of censure and incredulity.

Steve wholeheartedly agrees but was currently too busy guzzling down his umpteen drinks to comment. He quickly checks across the table and doubles his effort to swallow the honeyed brew faster. A loud belch followed by an even louder clank of metal signaled his opponent won that round and the gathering crowd erupted into cheers. Steve immediately stops swallowing and gently lowers his tankard to the table. There was still a little over a quarter of mead left. Steve raises his eyes to meet steely blue orbs and nodded even though Prince Thor returns his concession with a look full of mockery and win. That challenging stare down would have been more effective had it not been for Thor’s beard dripping with mead still.

Two more freshly poured tankards replace the semi-empty ones. Natasha promptly takes one and raises her full tankard in salute to the Lady Sif before downing it steadily.

“Now that hardly seems fair. At this rate, you’re likely to drink a quarter more alcohol than he does. You know, I’m really sorry for not lasting longer,” remarked Bruce to Steve as Clint is too busy cheering his mate amongst the crowd. Thankfully, Natasha had not taken any meds since the early morning despite how Steve tried to talk her out of it, but the stubborn femme proclaimed she’s Russian and that was that.

“No worries Bruce,” said Steve as he was more than happy to ignore the spectacle to face his pack mate who’s looking a bit less green of a different sort after upchucking what’s left of his meal of omelet’s and toast. Odd fares for dinner but considering the hodgepodge of recognizable food that was presented to their table, Steve can understand why. He had brightened up with a smile when he remembered the cookbook Phil gave him before they left. It seems rather than assimilate to his environment, his nephew managed to make Alfheim adapt to him. A lesson, apparently they all needed a reminding of. So Steve continues, “It’s only a means to an end.”

Dubious brows knit in irritation before Bruce remarks with, “you’re saying there’s a reason for a drinking contest whose only goal is to humiliate the other person to puke, pee in their pants or be passed out drunk?”

As if to confirm the Beta’s words, the crowd erupted into another cheer when both femmes ended their round with another tie. It was up to Clint against Volstagg to break even. Steve pretends to be focus on the match when he leans closer to Bruce’s ear to share his thoughts on the matter, “My mom used to say: the quickest way to an Alpha’s heart is through his gut. Well, a pack gathering through their beer guts in this case.”

Bruce stilled for a moment before he responded with a slight pejorative smirk, “No offense Steve, but wouldn’t it be easier on all our bladders and just have you bat your eyelashes instead? If you haven’t noticed, you’ve been receiving more than the lion share of stares ever since we came through the door.”

Actually, Steve had noticed and downgrades it to his uniform being hardly de rigueur for the occasion; or the natives have an abject curiosity over anything new, like Natasha’s wheelchair and Bruce’s eyeglasses. A frown promptly mars his brow when he responds, “I’m not batting my lashes. This is our best bet.”

Bruce shrugs before clapping to congratulate Clint on his questionable win. From the looks of it, the archer had taken notes from the Crown Prince and now sports a sopping wet tunic himself. But then again his opponent, Volstagg the Voluminous as he was self-introduced, had been alternately drinking and taking a bite from a large drumstick of some bird or other.

Steve’s gaze met Prince Thor’s as they squared off once again. It irks him each time. Steve shakes his head and not for the first time that night, wondered what kind of pack Tony got himself into where the Alpha knowingly gets sloshed before leading a search party the very next morning. It was altogether reckless.

Biting the sudden urge to read Prince Thor the Riot Act, Steve took up his drink to begin the next round of competition when a few startled gasps escalated to a full blown commotion. The scent of blood reached his nose before Steve saw one of the soldiers carry in a satchel seeped in blotches of crimson and a rolled up parchment towards the dais. The singular clip clop of armored feet was a stark contrast to the laughter that filled the hall seconds ago.

King Frey signaled Ambassador Larien to take the scroll while Queen Frigga sends one of her handmaiden whose cheeks were stain with tears to retrieve the bag. Steve can sympathize for their loss and Tony’s too perhaps. For one can guess, his nephew must have one of the Queen’s handmaidens assigned to him as well.

Instead of unrolling the scroll immediately, the Ambassador takes a moment to inspect the parchment thoroughly before doing so. The shrewdness of his demeanor never once relented as he read the contents before nodding to his King. Then, with one quick slicing motion, all the attending elves, soldiers and dinner guests left the hall without a protest. Steve shared a few hesitating glances with his pack mates before they too move to leave.

“Please, stay,” beseeched the Queen with sorrow tinting her words.

With another shared solemn glance, his pack turns around and approach the dais as a unit to stand with Thor’s pack side by side. Steve knew despite all their planning, he never once imagined that such a tragedy would grant them access like this. Tony was in more trouble than he thought.


	7. Now and Then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Please excuse the author for fudging with the MCU timeline. Hand-waving aside, she missed her vitamins this morning and therefore will not be responsible for disrupting the space time continuum. With all jokes aside, the initial flashback scene is set from the 2012 Avengers movie while a few snippets were picked straight from the comics-616 verse and Avengers: Age of Ultron. However, in true AU fashion, these snippets and the flashback will be adapted to the ‘ToTP’ verse written by yours truly. Lastly, I am writing the next chapters of both fics and haven’t considered yet which to post first. The order doesn’t affect the story so feel free to input your thoughts in the matter or not at all. Thank you and hopefully you’ll enjoy this update.

_“Trouble sleeping?” Nick Fury deadpans after he walked in an old WWII-esque boxing gym and spent a few seconds taking in the rage Captain America is unleashing on a poor punching bag._

_Steve pause abruptly and took a moment to catch his breath as the vivid memories of the war he’d woken from subsided. Calmer now, he turns his attention to the Alpha who’d previously introduce himself as the deputy director of SHIELD, a lettered organization modeled after the SSR. Three weeks was hardly enough time to take in all the changes to the world. He shakes his head from the gloom that still lingered and walks to the bench to begin unravelling the tape off his hands._

_Unsure of Fury’s motive for seeking him out, Steve kept his answer terse, “I slept for forty years, sir. I think I’ve had my fill.”_

_“Then you should be out, celebrating, seeing the world,” suggests Fury._

_It would seem Fury was determined to make small talk first. Steve sat down on the bench. Minding his manners, he gestured the other to do the same. When Fury refused, Steve shrugs before elaborating further, “I went under, the world was at war, I wake up, they say we won. They didn’t say what we lost.”_

_Fury flash a wry smirk before responding cryptically, “We’ve made some mistakes along the way. Some very recently.”_

_Seeing that segue for what it was, Steve skipped the bullshit to ask pointedly, “You here with a mission, sir?”_

_“I am,” said Fury, not even bothering to prevaricate further._

_Steve counters with mild sarcasm after recalling the report he read on his psyche evaluation a few days ago, “Trying to get me back in the world?”_

_Fury reach inside his pocket to hand Steve a small photo stack of what looks like a gruesome crime scene in vibrant colors. He was both amazed by the technological improvement and appalled by the application._

_Fury succeeded to provide a backstory, “Funny you should mention what we’ve lost. You’re old buddy Howard Stark has a six year old son. The boy’s a prodigy, heard he rebuilt an engine for a ’66 Cobra roadster by himself in his old man’s garage. This morning, he went out for a walk with his nanny in Central Park. A frequent jogger discovered her and three body guards in a pile under a bridge, each with a bullet through the head. Ever since Congress passed a bill that recognized Omegas have equal rights to things like inherit stuff, more of this shit has been going down. There’s a lot we’ll have to bring you up to speed on if you’re in.”_

_Steve grit his teeth before asking, “Who took him?”_

_Fury shrugs, “Stark’s been reluctant to compile a Christmas list of names that are more naughty than nice. Think you can get him to sing for us?”_

_”Yeah,” His answer was tentative at first. Of course he’d learn that a few of his friends are still around. It’s just that Steve felt disoriented still upon realizing that they had lived a whole lifetime without him while his memories of them are fresh as daisies. It would be odd to see a greying Howard Stark but Steve would never say no to a friend in need. Then as he stared at a picture of a brunet, brown-eyed cherub beaming at the camera, Steve added with resolute confidence, “Whoever it is should have left him alone.”_

* * *

That was a little over twelve years ago. 

Sometime Steve wishes his acumen in Tony Stark’s wellbeing weren’t honed by such terrible experiences. Throughout the years, Steve had always responded to the call of Tony’s safety whether it was from one of Howard’s jilted lovers, rival companies, mercenaries, or until recently, callous suitors. For a decade, Steve was content to watch over his adopted nephew from the sidelines until Obadiah Stane’s ambition went too far. Steve wasn’t able to prevent Howard’s and Maria’s death, nor was he able to undo the damage to Tony’s heart both physical and mental, but he managed somehow, by the grace of God, to protect Tony from self-destruction.

So Steve tried. He really did. 

There’s just no way to sugarcoat the godawful truth: Tony’s fiancé is the worst suitor since the restroom incident in Monaco. Steve really doesn’t like to cast judgment so earlier on, but he’d seen enough to call them like he sees it. The royal Alpha was not only rude, arrogant, and insufferably rash he also lacked manners and common courtesy. Steve hopes to be proven wrong for his nephew’s sake. 

There’s a saying, _‘Punctuality is the politeness of kings’._

Clearly Prince Thor doesn’t subscribe to the same standard otherwise the group would be on their way to the rendezvous point half an hour ago. Instead the majority of those present who’s outfitted with weapons suitable for a medieval warfare reenactment were just milling around the stable pasture, conversing idly. At least they kept formation.

Steve had occupied his time by assessing the odd gathering and how they fit within it. Clint, whose black tactical suit was geared to the nines with a bow and arrows on his back, throwing knives spanning his limbs and torso, and Widow’s bite on his left wrist courtesy of his mate had piqued interest from the elven soldiers including Thor’s pack mates. One especially, called Hogun the Grim, even struck up a conversation with Clint which astounds Steve to no end considering it was the same person who threw a dagger at the archer less than twenty-four hours ago.

In contrast, on Steve’s other side, Bruce whose presence was a pleasant surprise, was the complete opposite of Clint. He only wore a light button up, zip-up jacket, Stark patented stretchable khakis, a pair of sneakers, and a backpack. His reception was a mixed bag of responses, from ridicule to flabbergasted. It was Clint who quick-wittedly announced Bruce was there for medical support. Well, that and the additional tank was left unsaid since the three of them knew better of course. Although, Steve genuinely hopes that the Hulk won’t be needed for this mission since it would be hard to explain pre or post appearance. Of that, Steve rather take their chances and hope that an explanation would not be necessary at all.

Aside from worrying about that, Steve was planning to offer Bruce to ride with him until he noticed the Beta was actually very comfortable around the stallions. Clint, he can understand since the agent was a carny before joining SHIELD. Wherein Steve had to learn quickly while traveling through Europe’s backroads during the war. For some reason, Steve had assume Bruce had the same aversion to animals as Tony did.

His thoughts must have been transparent since Bruce took one glance at him and scoffs with self-deprecating humor, “When I was hiding in India, there’s only so much ground one can cover and having a car or bicycle became too expensive and disposable when I left in a hurry due to ah… certain circumstances. So I learned. I’ve ridden a few horses, donkeys, mules, and even an elephant once.”

Steve felt like a heel for not knowing what Bruce went through, “I was just surprise that’s all. Always thought you were a city kid like Tony and I. Well except for Tony, who received riding lessons since he was ten. I guess we all pick up some skills here and there.” 

Bruce grins as he remembers fondly, “He’d always hated it though. I remembered his dad personally came to the dorms looking for him on the third day of the ‘Forward Thought Conference’ we attended at Oxford University way back when we were rivals. Tony had ducked out one too many times, you see. That was the first time I’d met Howard Stark and was so science-struck that I never got to talk to him. Tony never stopped teasing me about it even as he talked about his old man for the rest of the week. I was so jealous until I went home to my aunt Susan and realized I know more about his dad than from any interview or biography book written about him.”

Being the ever nosy pack mate that he is, Clint jumps right in, “I thought it was just me but I guess Tony’s always been a dick.”

Both Bruce and Steve gave Clint matching looks that screamed, _‘ the hell you talking about?’_

Having caught their attention, Clint smugly begins his own account, “I was busking trick shots for money on Staten Island when this little snot-nose brat walked right up and challenged me to a logarithmic scale-or-nothing match. Started with a dollar and escalated to ten thousand. I was gearing up to shoot a target through a moving coaster when someone in the crowd burst out laughing and jeered that I’d been had. Sure enough, the brat was gone. Didn’t think the kid had the money but it was a matter of pride, you know. Less than an hour later some toothpick in a smart suit began snooping around, asking questions. From that I figured Howard Stark’s heir ran away from home. Felt bad for the kid, didn’t think he had the know-how to survive the streets so I went looking for him. Only saw his shadow since I was always one step behind until he disappeared for good. It wasn’t until a week later, I found an envelope in my trailer with a thousand dollars in it. Figured the kid must have got nine lives.”

“Tony returned home on his own, said he did it to prove a point to Howard,” Steve explains and smiles at Clint’s description of his handler, “And Phil Coulson was a rookie at the time but said he met someone with potential. Didn’t realize that was you.”

“Small world,” laughs Clint.

“Worlds you mean,” Bruce reminded in turn before he quietly threw a question at them, “considering what Tony’s been through, how many lives are left?”

Definitely a sobering thought.

Until Clint emits an inappropriate snort and states, “If Tony can survive bomb shrapnel, the streets of New York and hobnobbing donation season after donation season, what’s another kidnapping?”

Again, Clint seems to have the knack to both address the issue and belittle the point entirely. Steve ignores it and gave his own observation, “I didn’t smell anything personal of his in that blood-soaked bag. Most likely it belongs to the handmaiden the queen assigned him.”

Bruce contemplates this before nodding his thanks for the assurance whereas Clint scrunches his nose in disgust. Steve rolls his eyes in anticipation of what’s coming.

“You know that whole smelling thing wigs me out. I don’t want to know, that you know, that I’m wearing day old underwear. That should be between me and my pants.”

“I honestly hadn’t check and didn’t need to know that, Clint,” bemoans Steve as Bruce snickers beside him. Then he states just to clarify his stance, “And besides, I don’t normally exercise that sense. It’s invasive but I do admit, it comes in handy.”

As soon as he said it, Steve regretfully brace himself for something inappropriate from Clint when the Prince finally moseyed on in wearing a sour expression and decked out for battle, though his ensemble was kitted more towards movement rather than protection. A shiny short sleeve metal doublet with decorative circular chest plates and black leather pants. While a short handled, rectangular blunt hammer was looped to his belt but beyond that, there were no other visible weapon, though if looks could kill. The Alpha’s foul mood has him forgoing with niceties altogether. Thor swung onto his stallion’s back and canters off, expecting everyone else to follow. 

Frowning at the abruptness, Steve shares a glance with his pack mates before mounting their own horse to complete the procession. Clint harrumphs and has no problem pointing out the obvious when he asks Steve in a hush voice so as not to be overheard, “So can you smell what’s got the Prince in a snit?” 

Bruce shakes his head and answers softly for him, “He has hyperosmia not telepathy. I suggest you ask the knife aficionado over there if you really want to know.”

It was meant more of a joke but Steve can see that Clint was determined to find out when he says more to himself, “You know what, I will.”

Clint does just that as he nudges his horse and pardon his way up the ranks to reach Hogun the Grim. The pair of them conversed quietly for some time when Clint expressed his thanks with a gesture and slows down for the elven soldiers to pass him by. When he’s on par with Steve again, the expression on his face was a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

It was a peculiar look and Bruce questions him quietly, “What did he say?”

Pursing his lips in exaggeration, Clint seem to have given up figuring it out and shrugs, “First of all, getting that man to crack a smile is harder than making Coulson break out in a sweat. Secondly, I think he’ll be a fun challenge for Nat on poker night. Thirdly, I get the feeling every time that man speaks, it’ll always be something dark and ominous. Fourthly, wait, is that a word? Never mind, So I’m just going to repeat verbatim because Hogun is quite the poet.”

Then Clint proceeds to clear his throat and uses what he perceives as his theatric stage whisper, “Thor seeks his brother this morn and found his tower empty of use. As expected, Loki is nowhere when needed. Perhaps tis for the best, for this quest is not one for a master of light and shadows.”

“Huh,” said Steve and Bruce in unison. They were as stump as Clint’s earlier expression indicated.

Clint shrugs again before throwing out a cheeky guess, “I thought the myths said his brother was bald and a valet or something?”

“I think you mean Baldur and Vali,” Bruce automatically corrects even as he rolls his eyes. Then adds to the confusion as well, “Anyway, I thought Loki was his uncle? Like brother from another mother to Odin?”

Having studied the influence of Norse mythology on artwork in one of his courses, Steve opted to shake his head before stating, “Let’s just forget about what we read and Hogun’s comment. What we _should_ be focused on is this ransom note and a contingency plan if and when things goes sideways.”

And they do, especially in their line of hero work and Tony’s Richter scale level of trouble.

* * *

That was two hours ago. 

Sometime Steve wishes his acumen in Tony Stark’s wellbeing didn’t hinge on the words of a madman he was fighting back to back with.

“Is that all you got?” Taunts Thor with a wide sweep of his hammer wielding hand. Steve couldn’t believe the magnitude of damage that had been done with that weapon. In a single strike to the ground, the battlefield shook and toppled the dozen so-called Marauders within its epicenter off their feet and knocked them unconscious. Or perhaps shocked them would be a better descriptor since he could have sworn he saw streaks of lightning shooting on impact.

Still, the battle isn’t over yet as they stood their guard, surrounded by a cast of creatures Tolkien would be ecstatic to claim his own. The ground shook once more from the approach of something obviously, large and extremely heavy. At his first glimpse, Steve raises his shield in preparation and takes the Prince to task.

“You had to ask.”


	8. Detours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter but I thought it made sense to cut it here. Next up will be an update from Tony’s POV.
> 
> I might come back to flesh this chapter out if it is not clear what is going on. Until next time.

Steve Rogers had seen and fought his fair share of bizarre people and creatures in his relatively long life, but this mountain of moving rocks certainly deserves its very own category. It had organic looking eyes, a nose, a mouth with jagged rocks for teeth, but no ears. The creature carried a spiked club and even wore upper body armor. Plus a strip of heavy leather below the waist to cover the bits and pieces. Though it was hard to imagine those to be anything like other bipedal. Appalled by his own turn of thought, Steve promptly shook his head from such musings. No doubt, he knows whose influence is to blame and made a mental note to pull both Tony and Clint into the next sensitivity training refresher with him.

 

 

And should insist Tony drag his new fiancé along.

 

 

For the braggart of a Prince had scoff at Steve’s remark before strutting right up to the giant rock creature when everyone else had fall silent then demands, “I accept your surrender.”

 

 

While the attackers laughed at Thor’s audacity, Steve caught an arrogant shout out from Sif, “He’s all yours!”

 

 

Madden by their overconfidence, the rock creature roar its battle cry and swung the club in a downward arc. Thor easily sidestep the telegraphed move while twirling the short hammer by the loop handle before letting it loose. The blunt head swerved upward and connected with the opponent’s chest and chin, shattering the creature into a spray of loose pebbles. Steve was both impressed and perturbed by the direct and unnecessary deathblow. Though from a strategic standpoint, he can see the advantage of taking the enemies’ most threatening chess piece off the battlefield.

 

 

Remarkably, the hammer then falls back and swerves right into Thor’s palm as if it has a mind of its own. Everyone, except the Prince of course, stood there in stunned silence. Until the braggart challenged again, “Anyone else?”

 

 

The Prince must be crazy if he expects the fifty or so Marauders to just throw their arms down and surrender from that single demonstration. Yet, instead of rallying to mob them by sheer numbers, the attackers turn tail and ran back into the woods. Thor’s thunderous guffaw was echoed by his pack mates who stood by with the remaining soldiers and watch them fled. Steve shook his head as he surveyed the destruction before giving chase after the largest crowd, ignoring the varying jibes of proving his worth to letting the cowards go.

 

 

Instead, Steve focused on the task at hand and launches his shield with a practice ease at the diminishing few who has yet to reach the forest’s edge. The speeding metal disc hit its target on the back, then ricochet off a tree trunk and sailed back towards him. Steve caught the shield at mid run, secures it to his back, and jogs to a halt by the fallen Marauder.

 

 

Seemingly out cold, Steve approaches and rolls the creature over. He caught a glimpse of misshapen features and a cracked horn when a leg swoops out to swipe his feet from under him. The super soldier leapt back and into a defensive position as the creature vault up with a handspring before brandishing a dagger. Steve resets his stance loose in counter measurement the instant the first thrust aim for his throat. He takes a step forward, bats the extended arm with his right hand and jabs his left fist right where any humanoid solar plexus should be. As expected the creature folds but without making another effort to flip the dagger to a different hold. Steve promptly intercepts the knife-hand in a joint lock by the wrist, rotates his body beneath the arm and completes the forward momentum with a shoulder throw. The creature flops face first to the ground, all the while cursing breathlessly in a language Steve doesn’t understand. Unrelenting on his grip, the super soldier kept up the twist on the creature’s arm even as he holsters the dagger to his thigh for safe keeping.

 

 

That’s when Steve registered the low murmuring from his surroundings and looked up. It would seem his actions had attracted a small gathering of curious soldiers. And the Prince too, apparently. Thor and his pack mates pushed their way to the front.

 

 

Fandral was the first to offer praise, “Your command of that shield is admirable.”

 

 

And was immediately derided for his effort by Sif, “Though where lies the honor in felling a coward on the run?”

 

 

He caught Clint’s eye roll when the archer snaked through the crowd with Bruce close behind. Steve promptly shakes his head to discourage any catty remarks on his behalf then relax just a tad upon observing Bruce and his lack of color saturation.

 

 

Steve then set his sight back on Fandral and asked, “Do you know what it’s saying?”

 

 

Fandral ventures closer and smirks after catching a few repeated phrases, “Something vulgar in regards to your sire.”

 

 

Steve frowns before requesting further of the other blonde, “Can you ask him why they attack us when we agreed to fulfill the ransom?”

 

 

Fandral repeated his words in the creature’s tongue. The Marauder laughs out a remark in which Fandral said smoothly, “He says ‘to go tup yourself’.”

 

 

Steve frowns again and twist the arm in his grasp a bit higher up. The creature squirms in pain and repeats his previous phrase. Steve raised the arm up another degree as the other arched up to compensate when he starts spewing a string of jumbled syllables.

Fandral’s easygoing demeanor immediately turned serious as he crouches down to ask some follow up questions. When he seem satisfied by the information, he stood up and address his Alpha, “He says he does not know of the ransom but was paid handsomely to delay us as long as possible and no more. The person they spoke with was masked and wore a black cowl.”

 

 

Thor eyes the creature and then stares at Steve for a long minute. The Prince then signals two of the guards to take the Marauder from Steve’s custody before, to the super soldier’s surprise, consulting with him, “What think you of this transgression?”

 

 

Steve straightens up and gladly spoke of his most imminent thoughts, “My first question would be: why. Why delay us? And the second would be: where. Where were we heading before the delay? Before the setup? And lastly, who. Who wants to delay us?”

 

 

Thor nods his thanks and Sif was quick to voice her suspicions bitterly, “Indeed, who stands to profit from this? Only a few were privy to Prince Anthony’s abduction. There must be a traitor amongst King Frey’s court.”

 

 

Volstagg and Hogun exchanged concerning looks before the voluminous one steps up to caution further, “Our unseen enemy has sent us on a fool’s errand. ‘Twould take us twice as long to reach Onollo now.”

 

 

Thor folds his arms in thought as he cast a measured glance to a location far off in the distance. Then with a look full of determination he asked Hogun, “If we ride without delay, would we reach before nightfall?”

 

 

Hogun glanced at Volstagg and deadpans, “Aye, for those who are capable of such a feat.”

 

 

Steve can tell that it must be a longstanding joke between them when the crowd sniggers at the rotund warrior’s expense. Volstagg takes the comment with a grunt before volunteering, “I shall happily remain with a half dozen soldiers to round up the fallen and escort the prisoners back to Gimlé. I do not envy you of this journey.”

 

 

Thor clasp a hand onto Volstagg’s neck in gratitude and dismissal before turning to Steve and his pack, “And you, my new shield brothers? Will you continue on this adventure with us?”

 

 

Steve frowns at the Prince’s word choice only to grimace at Clint’s subsequent comment, “I don’t see why we can’t just frost our way directly to this Onoyo? If it’ll save us the trouble of killing our horses and getting saddle sores.”

 

 

Like before, as if it were an insiders joke, the remaining crowd laughs at Clint before Fandral enlightens them, “Our apologies my foreign friends, tis all in good jest. For you see, travelling via Bifrost is only permitted within the confines of Gimlé. If landed elsewhere, the treaty with the Mab Queen Aelsa of Alfheim, shall be made null and war would break throughout the land. Tis her jurisdiction of the night we must avoid and make haste to Onollo.”

 

 

War and this weird monarchy arrangement certainly wasn’t a laughing matter but Steve didn’t voice his concerns out loud, but shared them with a glance to Bruce and Clint. It would seem there was more to this kidnapping then was let on. And Tony is caught smack dab in the middle of it. Typical.


	9. Road to Sedition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Loki’s POV and it’ll be a doozy.
> 
>  
> 
> I’ll probably rewrite/add a few things once I get past my New Years hangover. Until then.

Steve fought the urge to check on Bruce once again. The last time he tried, the young scientist had cut him off by preemptively declaring _‘I’m fine. Stop worrying.’_ Steve wish he could. It was a natural part of his instincts after all that cannot be easily turned off like some things he’s found due to the super serum. But beyond looking worn-down, Bruce kept the grueling pace and had even taken a stretch break when they stopped once for the horses to drink their fill by the river adjacent to the road.

 

 

That had been over an hour ago. Not counting the tactical diversion and the brief rests, they had been on horseback for nearly four hours since daybreak. Even with his increase stamina, Steve was beginning to feel how taxing it was. He understood the necessity for speed _if_ it was to save Tony or prevent something from happening, but that was not the case. In fact, there was no guarantee they would find his nephew there, if at all. The mystery to Onollo only showcases the reason behind the diversion, not the promise of Tony’s whereabouts. So why the rush? Steve understood when Bruce explained the planet’s differences to Earth, such as time, the gravitational pull and so on. Up to now the effects he felt were minor. Judging by the angle of the sun, they have about an hour or two of sunlight left. The shorter days shouldn’t matter though since Alfheim has two moons to light their way plenty!

 

 

The earlier discussion mentioned about another monarch ruling the night. It sounds like this queen will punish whomever is out pass curfew. Regardless of who’s in charge, the people of Alfheim are the same. Surely, the citizens shouldn’t be accepting one and fear the other depending on the time of day?

 

 

Throughout their journey, Steve had been pondering this mystery surrounding Tony’s kidnapping and the clues weren’t adding up. It was time he sought to shine some light on it. So he signals Clint that he’s riding ahead and sped his horse to keep pace with Fandral the Dashing, who seem to be more plainspoken of Thor’s pack. The other blonde greets Steve with a smile that slowly fades to one of curiosity as he falters from the lead his pack mates took.

 

 

Never one to mince words, Steve starts with, “Could you bring me up to speed on this Queen Aelsa and why we need to be there before dusk? My pack and I weren’t given much notice previously about the politics and protocols around here.”

 

 

Though his focus was mainly on the road, Steve sees Fandral nod once before complying with his request, “Certainly. I can apprehend how confusing the circumstances might be to those from Midgard. Considering Anthony had mention he mainly grew up in a city that never sleeps, this race to be indoors must be maddening.”

 

 

Steve grins at Tony’s commercial description of New York then nods out of courtesy for Fandral to continue.

 

 

“Twas not always like this. Long ago, the people of Alfheim had sought to improve their relations with other realms by soliciting Asgard’s help to convince their Queen, who is much known for her— shall we say, reclusive and unpleasant nature. Our gracious All-father listened to their plea and granted the elves the assistance of King Frey, who was an untried ruler at the time yet wise beyond his age. After forty days and forty nights of extensive discussions, his delegation yielded the governing we have now. Twas only in recent years the Mab Queen imposed this vile mist to envelop the land upon nightfall. To those who fell prey, most were never heard from again and the few who survived, returned with limbs missing and or minds lost.”

 

 

Fandral paused in his storytelling to let that sink in before concluding with, “Some say her reason stems from her hatred of greed and progress. Others propose twas no reason at all, but pure malice to remind the people of Alfheim not to forget their Queen. Frankly, tis not all bad to turn ones sheet down early, especially when company is within reach. All the more justification to stay in bed, I say.”

Steve ignores the wink directed his way and steers the topic to something Fandral brought up earlier, “So this occurs every night? Queen Aelsa can turn the mist on and off? She can control the weather here?”

 

 

He wasted no time assessing the threat level. Given the increase in super villains (in which the media and public had dubbed the people with destructive powers back home), it wouldn’t surprise him one bit to have those here as well, monarch or otherwise. Sure enough, Fandral confirms it, “Aye, amongst other things. As ruler of Alfheim, she is mother and executioner to all.”

 

 

More and more, this queen sounds like a dictator who demoralizes her people. A different kind of bully, but a bully nonetheless. Moving on from that revelation for now, Steve latches on to another concern when he asked, “You mentioned war earlier—”

“Halt!” Thor shouted.

 

 

They came to an abrupt stop. Confused at first, Steve swerves his head left and right to look past the soldiers in front of him but could only see a black mound of some sort. Wanting to know more, he mentally unblocked his perception then sniffed the air and dearly wished he hadn’t. Straightaway, the scent of charred flesh scorched his senses. His heart drops in realization when memories of a brunet cherub beaten and bruised comes to the fore.

 

 

“Tony’s not in that pile or else, why bother send a ransom note?” states Clint as he and Bruce caught up with Steve. The agent must have used his own keen eyesight to see what the super soldier cannot. More than grateful for the logical and comforting words, Steve firms his jaw and puts his game face back on as Tony would say. There was no room for doubt, only discipline and decision.

Fandral drives his steed back to the front. Steve and his pack staunchly follows suit, their concern heightening with each step. When his view clears, the gruesome sight of melted bodies piled on top of one another several yards away confirms his fears, yet hope lay fixed on the horizon. Whoever took Tony had a purpose. His nephew should be unharmed at most. While repeating that to himself, Steve gave a steady nod at Clint and Bruce to lend them strength. He then renews his resolve and waits, strictly observing for now. There will be a time to act soon enough.

 

 

As the scene unfolds, Prince Thor remains firmly seated atop his horse with his hands crossed as if bored. Only one rider has left their mount to investigate, yet the person is nowhere to be seen. Fandral must have noticed his confusion since the other blonde boasts out of the blue, “Hogun the Grim is the best tracker in all the nine realms. We shall know soon enough what we are dealing with.”

Steve chose not to comment as Thor and Sif nods in agreement. He spotted Hogun at work a moment later. Sighting the warrior every so often as he retraces steps, crouches on several occasions or disappears from view seemingly without rhyme or reason. Given their previous interactions, Steve was genuinely surprised by Thor’s restraint for such a long stretch of inactivity. He figured the Prince should have ordered a proper burial at the least while they wait. Upon second thought, most likely they were waiting for Hogun to complete his analysis. All in all, the super soldier admired their discipline for being alert and ready. If only his own pack (mainly Tony) exhibit such a virtue.

 

 

Were Tony here, the silence would be filled by inane chatter (just about everyone within hearing distance) to lighten the mood. Without him, Bruce would utilize the downtime to meditate as he is doing now. While Clint is faring better than most times he’s bored and actively tracking the tracker, making a game of it. Steve shakes his head and despite the looming threat of the night mist, he continues to wait like the rest of them.

 

 

Several minutes later, excitement builds amongst the group as Hogun returns with purposeful strides. They wait anxiously for the warrior to hop back on his stallion and begins his report to Thor.

 

 

“Fourteen were ambushed by two dozen. Four of them trolls of different clans. Only three carried burdens. Two fled on horseback and one gave chase on foot. Twelve dead though only five were strip of their livery.”

 

 

Steve has to admit, Clint was right. The warrior’s gloomy and pedantic account has him scratching his head to figure out who’s who in the report. Hogun’s pack mate doesn’t seem to have a problem with the math though since Sif was quick with her disapproval, “What folly, to steal from the dead and abscond with the living. At least three managed to escape.”

 

 

She then peers at Thor and hisses in mild disgust, “Treachery is afoot.”

 

 

Hogun nods in agreement while Fandral remains levelheaded, “More than ever, Onollo hold our answers. As much as it pains me to leave the dead unburied, time is a wasting. We should hurry, Thor.”

 

 

Hogun nods to this as well before he adds his own counsel, “It would behoove us to discover the whereabouts of those who fled. Perhaps they will need our aid and be of witness to what happened.”

 

 

Steve watched on, fascinated by this redeeming facet of Thor’s pack. It was feasible that he might be too hasty in his judgment of them after all. They work well together and spoke their minds as their Alpha ponders his decision.

 

 

Finally, Thor gave his response, “Hogun, take as many as you need to track for survivors and retreat to the sanctuaries promptly. Regardless of what you may find, report to Onollo before noon tomorrow. We shall send word to Gimlé upon first light. The dead shall remain unburied until then.”

 

 

Thor clasps a hand on Hogun’s neck to bid farewell. Then without delay, he nudges his mount and led the charge to Onollo at full speed as if they wasted enough time. Meanwhile, Hogun had pulled two soldiers to accompany him.

 

 

Steve gently wakes Bruce out of his trance and gestures for them to follow. They hardly moved a step when Steve notices Clint’s reluctance as he eyes Hogun with clear interest. Steve shares a knowing look with Bruce before he chastises Clint teasingly, “Be careful and stay out of trouble. Natasha will want dibs on what you learn.”

 

 

Clint smirks at the unspoken endorsement and shouts over his shoulder as he joins Hogun the Grim, “Aye aye, Captain!”

 

 

They both shake their heads at the sharpshooter before nudging their own horses to catch up with their group.

* * *

The orange glow of the setting sun was a beauty to behold. There were dozens of scenes Steve memorized by heart. His hands itched to capture the image on canvas. Whether with oils, water colors, or pastels, it didn’t matter. But clearly, now was not the time. He could already see the forming of wispy fog condensing incrementally faster in ratio to the setting sun. It didn’t take much to convince him of the dangers forewarned. Luckily, the much anticipated Onollo was within reach.

 

 

Though what a sorry sight it was. The black gates were thrown wide open as grey smoke mingled with the forming mist. None but a lone man with two wolves by his side stood out from the chaos to greet them. While the other inhabitants were too busy putting out the flames.

 

 

Thor doesn’t seem to care either way when he dismounted without stopping fully to embrace the stranger bodily. When they separated from the one-sided hug, Steve couldn’t help but find the contrast in their behavior and greeting startling. Especially when the newcomer announces with grim set features and eyes ablaze with banked fury, “I bear you bad tidings, brother.”


End file.
